My Blog
Beyond My Back Gate
“It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.” Gandalf the Grey wasn’t messing when he laid down those words to our man Frodo at the shire. Sometimes...
The importance of looking back
In late December, tragedy struck my life. Whilst cycling back from a romantic break in Bourton-on-the-water (yes I said Bourton-on-the-water), Storm Frank got all up in my business. He wrapped his watery claws around my iPhone, thereby signing its death warrant. After...
It's not you, It's me. And it's over.
Better late than never for a final blog post, I’d say. Although it feels like I’ve been back in the UK for a lifetime, it’s only actually been 7 weeks. How quickly life slips back into ‘normality’ (whatever that means). I often liken finishing an adventure to a break...
Mind games in the final month
Jees Louise, I am tired. And it occurred to me that in my barefoot running, sunset snapping, unicorn pant wearing daily shares - that might not necessarily come across. So I thought I owed you all a little shot glass full of honesty. The reality of entering the final...
Whangariro: From Whanganui to Tongariro
If Carlsberg made rivers, they would make the Whanganui. It really is everything a river should be: Wet, winding, steep-banked, gorge-framed, tree-lined, tumbling and with a flow that can change from gentle stream to raging torrent on the flip of a dime. But I know,...
North of the strait: Wellington to Whanganui
I'm in big trouble. I mean, like serious, knee-deep doggy doo doo. My problem? People. I arrived in Wellington 10 days behind original schedule. No biggy, I thought, and reasoned that I'd make up time in the North Island. The terrain here is more suited to a runner...
Hard Yakka: Nelson Lakes and The Richmond Ranges
In the days leading up to heading over Waiau pass, I consulted the map. Uh oh - a dotted line. Dashed lines are good, dotted lines - not so much. They mean 'a route' rather than a trail. As in, you can go this way, many do, but be prepared to place your heart firmly...
Huts and the highway to hell
It's nearing the end of a very long day. The trail has twisted and turned for almost 20 miles now, plunging through bush, down to creek beds and dragging me back up to open tussocky tops. I stop to catch my breath, throw off the pack and flop, lifeless, at the side of...
Hey there, big rivers: The Rangitata to the Rakaia
It was 9am and I was, much like the white rabbit, running late. I was caught up having a WWE style wrestling showdown with some waist high tussock. It'd just about pinned me to the ground, and I was on the third count when... I heard a whistle. I broke free from the...
Loose on the lakes: Hawea to Tekapo
I was sat in the cafe/general store/local gathering place in lake Hawea village, watching it rain. It'd been raining for hours. 'One more coffee, then I'll go.' Well, I was 4 coffees deep now, and getting a little wired. Then it occurred to me - this rain was pretty...
